Page 12 of Bourbon Wishes
Haven's loud laughter echoes down the line. "He may have been. He could be one of those things. What are they called?"
"Demon spawn? Knights of Hell? Agents of Evil?" I supply helpfully, pulling a dressy blue suit from the closet.
"No, not that. The thing where someone switches out a baby with one that looks just like it, but it's actually like a demented fairy or something."
"What did you read as a child?" I ask, making her laugh again as I survey the suit. It's professional enough, but…is that the vibe I want tonight? No, not really. Part of me—the irritated part who loves being a problem for Bastian—doesn't want to be professional and accommodating. I want to tempt fate and taunt a beast.
I hang the suit back beside the others I rarely wear, reaching for the little black dress I've never worn. I bought it on a whim when Haven and I went shopping last month. It's gorgeous and daring, not at all appropriate for a work dinner.
Bastian will be furious when I show up in it.
Maybe that's what prompts me to tug it from the hanger. He's my problem today, so I intend to be his tonight. Maybe next time, he'll think twice about threatening my job if I don't dance on his strings.
"What time do you have to be there?" Haven asks.
"Seven." I glance at my phone screen and sigh. "I should probably change."
"Changeling!" she cries.
"What?"
"They're called changelings. Maybe that's what he is."
It's a theory. A terrible one, but a theory, nonetheless.
"I doubt it," I sigh, snagging a pair of red heels from the shelf before wandering out of the closet. I toss my dress on the bedbefore dropping the shoes beside it. "Fairies, even the demented ones, have souls. Your cousin definitely doesn't."
"He has a soul," she says, laughing in protest. "It's just pinned beneath the weight of that stick up his butt."
"Has he always been like this?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Yes." She sighs. "No, not really. Even as a kid, he was super serious and dedicated. But he didn't turn into the Fun Police until he took over the vineyard. Honestly, I think he's just forgotten what it's like to have a life that doesn't revolve around making money. He does it for us, but sometimes…"
"What?" I ask when she trails off.
"Sometimes, I wish he'd find something he's really passionate about," she whispers. "All he does is work so the rest of us can breathe. We try to help, but he won't let us take anything off his plate."
"He cares," I murmur, a little of my irritation fading. Even when he's a tyrannical pain-in-the-ass, it's obvious how much he loves his family. He's the first at the office every morning and the last to leave every night. Even when they're busy, everyone has fun around him all day, every day, and he never tries to stop them or complains. He just lets them do what they enjoy while he holds it down.
"Yeah, he does." Haven sighs again before perking up. "What are you wearing? Please tell me you're at least planning to torture him a little for being a total jerk today."
"Oh, absolutely," I say, grinning. "He threatened my job and made me miss my dentist appointment. There's no way I'm letting him get away with that."
"You're my favorite employee ever," Haven says, sighing dramatically.
I laugh quietly, gazing down at the dress. Bastian is either going to lose his mind or fire me for real. Either way, I think it might actually be worth it just to see the look on his face.
By the time Ipull into the parking lot atDella's, an upscale restaurant in downtown Santa Maria, I'm ten minutes late and alternating between anxious as hell and annoyed. My hair wouldn't cooperate. My car wouldn't start. My Spanx are so tight I feel like a sausage poured into a dress casing. And the temperature has dropped a full ten degrees since the sun went down.
If this meeting isn't life and death, Bastian's survival might actually be on the line tonight.
"Breathe," I whisper to myself as I shove my keys into my purse and try to paste a bright smile on my face. I give myself a quick look in the rearview, but I do not look like I'm happy to be here. I look like I'm marching toward the gallows. That'll go over real well with whoever we're meeting tonight.
I still don't have that information. Bastian never sent it. He just told me when to be here. Haven was no help on that front either, since she didn't know about the meeting. I'm walking in blind.
I probably should have worn something other than the Fuck Me Dress, but by the time I came to that realization, I was halfway here. There's no changing now.
I take a minute to reapply lipstick and fluff my hair before stepping out. Even though it was hot as hell when the sun was up, now that it's dark out, the air has cooled considerably, making me shiver. I hurry my steps, my heels click-clackingagainst the cement as I dip my head and rush for the warmth of the restaurant.
